


Everything

by DeanWinchesterPityParty



Series: What Should Have Been [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanWinchesterPityParty/pseuds/DeanWinchesterPityParty
Summary: Instead of letting his only remaining friend go out into hiding, Remus takes Sirius in. The two have a past fraught with doubt, but they'll have to put the broken pieces of each other back together.





	Everything

“He must go into hid-“  
Remus cut Albus Dumbledore off. “No, he doesn’t have to go into hiding! If you would just admit to the Wizengamot that you were wrong, that Sirius wasn’t James’ and Lily’s Secret Keeper, that you told them not to trust him-“  
“I’m afraid it is too late for such-“  
“Bullocks!” Remus shouted, slamming both hands onto Dumbledore’s desk and leaning over it, coming as close to Dumbledore’s lined face as he dared. “You are just unwilling to discredit yourself, Albus. But can’t you see that if you do not clear Sirius’ name, you will be putting him in unimaginable danger?”  
Dumbledore gazed back at Remus, unwavering. Remus sighed. “I quit,” he said. “I will not—I cannot remain here while my best friend—my only remaining friend—runs for his life. I will protect him if you are unwilling.”  
“Remus, if you leave this school… you are the best—“  
“SIRIUS WILL NOT SUFFER ANYMORE FOR YOUR PRIDE!” Remus roared. “We are done, Dumbledore. I do not doubt that Lord Voldemort will rise again. When that happens, Sirius and I will stand with you and the Order, like we did before. But beyond that and Harry’s safety, do not ask any more of us.  
Dumbledore smiled knowingly as Remus slipped into the “we” form. “As you wish, Remus. I wish you luck in finding him.”

Remus rushed through his packing, avoiding saying his goodbyes to anyone but Harry. There was somewhere he needed to be, someone he needed to find, someone he hoped would remember the plan they had set over a decade before.  
Remus Apparated to the base of what he suspected to be the single most treacherous mountain in the Highlands. He cursed his younger self as he began to climb, not daring to attempt to Apparate directly into the cave, just in case the protective enchantments that he, James, Peter, and Sirius had set directly after leaving Hogwarts were still active. After a half hour’s climb, Remus spotted the scraggly pine that marked the entrance to the cave. Wand drawn, holding his breath, Remus entered the cave.  
At first, the only thing he registered was how, even in the black, velvet darkness, over fifteen years since he’d last set foot there, the cave still carried the same sense of safety and warmth that it had when the Marauders had set it as their place to rendezvous in the case of a catastrophe. Then, a familiar scent filled his senses as too-thin arms embraced him tightly.  
“Padfoot,” Remus whispered reverently into the wiry shoulder. He smelled of sweat, ill-keeping, and blood, but mostly, he smelled of Sirius: leather and saltwater and mountain air and home.  
“You came,” Sirius whispered, his voice breaking. “I wasn’t sure you would, not after…”  
“Of course, I came,” Remus said firmly, taking the pale, gaunt face of his best friend between his palms. “You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun without me, did you?”  
Sirius’ face lit up with a smile, the handsome youth Remus had known shining through. “What’s the plan?”  
Remus sighed. “We need to start by getting you healthy. You look like a skeleton and if you could see the state of your hair, you’d have a fit. We’ll go to my father’s cottage, I never sold it.”  
“Remus,” Sirius said, his voice quieter than usual, “thank you.” Sirius’ grey eyes burned with that old intensity Remus had always so admired. Unbidden, the image of those eyes closed, with dark, thick lashes resting against pale cheeks, flooded Remus’ mind.  
Remus nodded and cleared his throat. “Can Buckbeak make the trip to Wales?”  
Sirius nodded, so Remus bowed deeply to Buckbeak, then mounted behind Sirius. “You know the way?” Remus asked, remembering the weeks Sirius had spent there when they were seventeen. Sirius only grunted, so Remus said no more.  
During the few hours’ flight , Remus felt the tension leave Sirius’ back and shoulders . Once, out of nowhere, Sirius stretched his arms out, tilted his head back, and began to laugh, almost maniacally. Buckbeak screeched along with him. Remus clasped his hand briefly over Sirius’ hip, but did not smile. Sirius had been through so much more than his emaciated, bloodied, and bruised body could ever show.  
Finally, well after midnight, Buckbeak landed smoothly in the overgrown front yard of Lyall and Hope Lupin’s estate. “You haven’t been living here,” Sirius said.  
“No,” Remus agreed. “Before going to Hogwarts, I was living in Tibet, studying werewolf lore there.”  
Sirius regarded Remus curiously. “Tibet?” His voice was angry and bitter, like burnt coffee or crushed beetle legs.  
Remus looked down, ashamed. “I’ve travelled a lot, since—since it happened. Didn’t feel right to stay. I couldn’t—couldn’t do it.”  
Sirius huffed, leading Buckbeak to the broken-down paddock in the back yard. “Thank you, Buckbeak. If you leave… well, come back, alright?” Buckbeak blinked down at Sirius in understanding.  
Sirius joined Remus inside the house. “When did they die?”  
“Mum went five years ago. Cancer, is what the Muggle healers called it. Dad went last summer. Loneliness, I suppose. I wrote often. Visited, when I could, but…”  
Sirius nodded slowly. “You never wrote to me.”  
“Would it have to come to you if I’d tried?”  
Sirius shrugged. He kept his eyes on the fire that Remus had lit in the hearth.  
Remus sighed. “Sirius, I thought-“  
“That I’d sold out James and Lily,” Sirius said flatly. “You thought that a decade of friendship, of brotherhood, meant nothing to me. You thought James meant nothing to me. To me.”  
“Sirius, I never dreamed that James would ask anyone but you to be their Secret Keeper. Because you were brothers. You were everything to him.” Remus stared pleadingly at Sirius, who continued gazing into the fire.  
Sirius moved closer to the flames. After a moment of tense silence, he said, “Twelve years. I've been so... so cold for twelve years. I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chill out of my bones.”  
Remus closed his eyes against the image of Sirius, his Padfoot, shivering in a stone cell. “I’ll—I’ll put the kettle on. I’m sure there’s tea—or hot cocoa or—something.”  
Remus busied himself finding mugs and tea—there was no hot cocoa—while Sirius stared into the flames. “Here.” Remus pushed a mug into Sirius’ hands and joined him on the floor in front of the fire. “I’ll get groceries tomorrow, and we’ll figure out our next move. You can’t go out looking like yourself—I could start a batch of Polyjuice—but you’ll need a wand, at the very least.”  
“I’ll give you the key to my family’s vault,” Sirius said flatly. “This tea is good, what kind is it?”  
“Lavender, I think, with something else. The box was faded. You should write Harry to let him know that you’re safe.”  
Sirius nodded. They lapsed into silence, neither willing to leave their place by the fire, and fell asleep propped shoulder-to-shoulder against one another. When morning broke, Sirius had slumped over onto his side and Remus had followed, pillowing his head on the dip of Sirius’ waist.  
As the sun crept over Remus’ eyes, he stirred. When he finally woke, he draped his care-worn cloak over Sirius before moving about the house and cleaning it by magic. With wide sweeps and short flicks of his wand, Remus laundered towels, aired out sheets, dusted out rooms and closets, and scrubbed bathrooms. As he was finishing, nearly a half hour later, Sirius joined him. “Are you hungry?” Remus asked. “Don’t be silly, of course you are. There’s nothing here, I’m afraid. I’ll make a supply run. Have a shower while I’m gone.”  
Without a word, Sirius handed over the key to the Black family Gringotts vault. “Research in Tibet doesn’t pay too well. Being the last surviving son of bigoted idiots does. Take it,” he said when Remus opened his mouth to argue. 

When Remus returned home that afternoon, he found Sirius about to crop his long, matted hair off near the roots. Remus said, “Wait,” before he could stop himself. “Let me,” he continued. “I’ll… I’ll just take off what can’t be saved.”  
Sirius hesitated, clearly unwilling to let anyone, even Remus, hold the sharp shears so close to his neck and throat. “Don’t… don’t accidentally kill me,” he half-joked.  
Remus nodded and set to cutting off the too-tangled bits, careful not to let the shears touch Sirius’ skin. “You were supposed to shower.” When Sirius only shrugged, Remus joked, “You’d better do it. The whole place will smell like dog.”  
Sirius chuckled softly. “Did you—“  
“Get shampoo? Yes, and the same conditioner you used to use.” Remus chuckled again. “Only because I couldn’t find flea shampoo.”  
“Lots of dog jokes today, Moony.”  
“I’ve got a lot of time to make up for. Eighty-four dog years, in fact.”  
Sirius chuckled again. “Pathetic.”  
Remus laughed and stepped away from Sirius. “If you use as much of that conditioner as you used to, you should be able to comb out the rest of this mess. Go shower. I’m here; you’re safe.” Remus said the last bit quietly, but very firmly.  
One thing hadn’t changed: Sirius took a lifetime to shower. By the time Sirius came downstairs, evening had fallen like a blanket over the estate and Remus had nearly finished making dinner. Sirius padded into the kitchen wearing pajama bottoms and a hoodie nicked from Remus’ childhood bedroom. The clothes were loose and far too long, evidence of how thin Sirius had become in the past years. Remus felt a pang in his heart—Sirius had not deserved what the years had done to him.  
“Come eat,” Remus urged. “I made shepherd’s pie.” Sirius’ face lit up, not bothering to state his gratitude as he dug in enthusiastically. Remus grinned. “I believe I’m meant to be the one to wolf down my food.”  
Sirius rolled his eyes, his mouth still full. “I’ve been living off rats for nine months. Gruel for twelve years before that. Even your cooking tastes gourmet now.” After a few moments’ silence, Sirius spoke again. “Feels strange, doesn’t it?”  
“What?”  
“Sitting here, eating shepherd’s pie, with James dead and Peter free…” Sirius trailed off, and Remus was about to open his mouth, but Sirius picked back up. “Pretending that the last time we saw each other didn’t happen. Like nothing ever did happen.”  
Remus closed his eyes. The last time he had seen Sirius had been the night before everything had happened. They had both been frightened, both been confused, had both been sure of nothing except that they were safe together. “I could never forget you, Sirius Black. No matter how hard I tried, I didn’t forget a thing.”  
When he opened his eyes, Sirius was right in front of him, having moved soundlessly to kneel in front of Remus. Sirius reached a hand up and cradled Remus’ cheek, running his thumb along the scar on Remus’ nose. “The whole time I was there,” Sirius said huskily, “I tried not to think of you. I didn’t want to give them my memories of you, didn’t want them to feed off them. But since I left… Merlin, Moons, I can’t think of anything else.” Sirius studied Remus’ amber eyes for a few long moments, then said, “Tell me you still love me. Don’t lie—if you don’t, just don’t say—“  
But Remus surged forward to cut Sirius off with a kiss. Every broken piece of Remus’ heart flew back together, and he was twenty years old again, drunk on the lips of a man above his station, beyond his reach. Even now, an escaped convict and wrongly-accused man, Sirius felt like more than Remus had ever felt he deserved. “I love you,” Remus murmured against Sirius lips, unwilling to break contact. “And if you’ll have me, Pads, I’m yours.”  
Sirius barked a laugh. “If I’ll have you? Moons, I’ve been yours since the day I met you. Of course, of course I want you.” And he pulled Remus to kneel on the floor with him, kissing him again with all his might.  
“Bedroom,” Remus panted. “Now.”  
Grey eyes alight, Sirius stood in a fluid motion. “Rem, if you don’t… I mean, if you want to wait… I’ll wait. I can wait, if you need to.” His statement was belied by the iron grip he had on Remus’ hip; of course, it made sense. Twelve years of imprisonment, of loneliness, of cold had left Sirius touch-starved and needy.  
Remus tangled a hand in Sirius now-soft hair. “If you make me wait another moment, Sirius Black, I shall explode. Please. Come.”  
Sirius let out a long breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Your wish, my command,” he chuckled against Remus’ lips. He followed Remus’ insistent hands and claiming lips, chuckling when Remus tripped on the third step from the top and falling with him.  
Sirius caught himself with one hand to avoid landing on top of Remus. The moonlight drifted in from the window, highlighting Remus’ scars and amber eyes, and Sirius’ breath caught in his chest. “Tell me this is real,” Sirius breathed. “Tell me I’m not still back there, tell me I’m not dreaming.”  
Remus grinned and took Sirius’ hand, placing it over his arousal. “Does this feel like a dream?”  
Sirius groaned. “Yes, it feels like every good dream I’ve had sense I was sixteen bloody years old, Rem.”  
In response, Remus stood, pulling Sirius along with him until the back of Remus’ knees hit the edge of his bed, then turned and pushed Sirius onto the bed. “You remember the last time we were in this bed?” Remus murmured as he unzipped the hoodie and laid his lips on the tattoos he uncovered.  
“Merlin, Moons, how could I forget? You… fuck, Rem… you didn’t let me sleep all night.” Sirius panted, reaching down and pushing Remus’ hair from his forehead. “Come back up here.”  
When Remus rejoined his and Sirius’ lips, Sirius set to work unbuttoning Remus’ shirt. “I didn’t let you sleep? Pads, you were the one who begged to make me come one more time before we went to sleep three times,” Remus chuckled, kissing the top of Sirius’ head.  
“Details, details,” Sirius muttered, now pulling at the zipper of Remus’ trousers. “Who cares? Take your pants off.”  
Both men discarded their trousers and undergarments, and with a murmured lubrication spell and a gentle hand, Remus was watching Sirius toss his head back and groan. “Merlin, Moons, please.”  
Remus ducked his head to bite at Sirius’ collarbone. “Please what, Pads? Use your words, let me hear you.”  
“Fuck!” Sirius cried as Remus did something clever with his fingers. “Remus, please, just fuck me. Please.”  
Remus grinned and nipped Sirius’ earlobe. “I have missed that sound. The sounds I can pull out you, Sirius Black, I’ve missed them more than I can say.”  
“You cocky fucker,” Sirius panted. “Fuck making me beg, fuck making me scream, just fuck me.”  
Remus complied with a snap of his hips and Sirius shouted wordlessly. “What was that, Sirius?”  
“You heard me,” Sirius growled breathlessly. “I said fuck me.”  
Remus grinned. “Your wish, my command,” he murmured, ducking his head and kissing Sirius, muffling his moans as he made up for time lost, for twelve years of a head full of Sirius and a heart full of guilt, for twelve years of an empty bed and twelve years of trying desperately to forget the dark hair and light eyes beneath him.  
“Moons,” Sirius groaned, arching his back and gasping. “Moons, you gotta slow down or I’m gonna…”  
“Me, too, Pads,” Remus panted, locking eyes with Sirius. “Come on, love. Come for me.”  
Sirius came with a shout only a moment before Remus, who collapsed onto the bed beside him. “Merlin. Remus,” Sirius said, “that was…”  
“Yeah,” Remus agreed, out of breath. “Yeah, that was… everything.”


End file.
